Luke's Dark Year
A/N – This story started out as a single idea and grew into a monster I could not control. I had originally sent it to Mags so that she could beta it for me, and when she won me at the author auction she asked me to finish this. It isn't quite done, but when I hit the 15k word mark I decided to break this up into a two parter. So here is the first part for you!
Mags gets the honor be being my purchaser and my Beta, thank you so much!
--Introduction--
The cold beer in his hand didn't make him feel any better, it didn't help make the visions in his mind any less vivid, and it didn't make the ache of betrayal in his gut diminish. It did make it easier to live with that heartache, the realization that he blew away the one good thing he had spent eight years hoping for. The fact was, not only was he lost without her, he was even more baffled by the thought that maybe she wasn't meant for him. After all, she was with him now,and hadn't he said that to Luke once? That bastard thought that they were meant for each other, that Luke & Lorelai were just for now. Luke thought that he belonged with Lorelai, but slowly he started to wonder if that was all a farce, a trick of his tormented mind. Maybe he was meant to just be like Louie, angry, old and alone.
One day Jess would move to Stars Hollow, Luke would die holding onto his old track trophies and Jess would have to find him an extra large coffin to fit him and his enormous beer gut. How did his dad do it? How did his dad meet his mom and keep her? What did his dad do in his life that made him deserve that woman of his dreams? Luke wondered what he could have done wrong on such a cosmic scale; he couldn't fathom the idea that there was another woman out there that could come close to Lorelai.
And even if she came back to him, he knew he was too proud to accept her return. She was tarnished. She had betrayed him. He didn't know if he even had the ability to ever trust her again. And these thoughts made him more and more ashamed, so shamefaced that he just dove deeper into the bottle when he knew he could spare the recovery time.
The company of his own mind was so unsettling at times that he didn't know if he could survive another drunken night alone, sitting with the memory of Lorelai and the sparse decorations April had left behind. And so, the solution, at least for Luke, was to visit a bar, any bar, with an ample supply of cheap draft beer and the company of people who did not know him. This is how Luke became a sort of the lord of the bar flies at Curtis House Bar & Tavern in Woodbury, Connecticut.
--The Unnamed Girl--
It was easy when he was drunk and stumbling to the local Motel 6 to forget who he was with, to forget what he was doing was wrong and the fact that the reasons behind it really called for a good psychiatrist and not a drunken tryst.
The first one was a bit of a shock to his system, and that was putting it nicely.
Luke sat at the bar playing with a glass of whiskey, he had taken to showing up on Wednesday evenings as Lane, Caesar and Zack could handle the diner alone on Thursday mornings just fine. Luke, being so very Luke-like even when drunk, had developed a tentative friendship with the bartender on Wednesday evenings as well. The barkeep, a man in his mid-60s named Tommy, was an Irish boy at heart who loved Irish-music and the Red Sox. Tommy took to calling Luke, Lukey from the Hollow, and occasionally when his shift was over, Tommy would commiserate with Luke on life over another glass of whiskey. Tommy himself had a wife at home and things were going well for him. Seeing as he had been a barkeep all of his life, he knew the sad sorts that walked through the doors of his establishment fairly well.
For the poor, the sad, the dejected and the overworked; a barkeep was a sort of psychiatrist, at least for the regulars who frequented almost every happy hour. Getting to know Tommy also made it easier for Luke to stop by more often, on the pretense that he wanted to "check up" on his friend in Woodbury.
Luke soon gained his official barfly badge, having spent almost every Wednesday evening and the occasional Thursday happy hour for two months at the Curtis House. Luke encountered a group of camp counselors, safety whistles and camp shirts included, coming into the bar to celebrate the end of the summer. One of the girls in the group, a young one of barely 21 years, chose a bar stool away from her friends and right next to Luke. She was beautiful with long brown wavy hair, bright green eyes and a smile like Meg Ryan before the trout pout.
Luke was a bit flustered that this young woman wanted to even look at him, let alone speak to him and drop hints of a... lustful nature. Luke hardly said any words to the girl, but he admitted to himself that a part of him was extremely attracted to her smile and her youthful demeanor. He bought her drinks, watched her talk on and on, admired the curve of her smile and acquiesced, after much waffling, to walk her home to her apartment.
The next thing he knew, he was stepping over a messy apartment, absorbed in a flurry of undergarments, moving towards a squeaky broken futon to soon find himself buried within this young girl whose name had completely escaped him. Was it Sandra? Sandy? Andy? Amanda? Andrea? He thanked whatever God there was that he didn't suffer the limpness that liquor can cause and was able to find some sort of release. After it was all over, not being accustomed to one-night-stand lifestyle, he laid there wondering if he should leave or wait until the morning. After hearing the soft snoring of the girl beside him, he quickly sobered up when he noticed a few college banners hanging on her wall.
He immediately thought of Rory and instantly he felt ashamed. He had just slept with a girl that was Rory's age and the thought of that was incredibly disturbing to him. How could he have sunk so low and gotten so drunk that he failed to realize this? And then another thought popped into his head, protection. Did he remember protection? He hadn't been carrying condoms with him and she didn't make any mention of them... He cursed himself, and her, even though he still couldn't recall her name.
With all the speed that he could muster, he threw his clothes on and rushed out of her door. He headed for his truck at a half run, and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach onto the sidewalk next to where he had parked. When he caught his breath, he climbed in the creaky old truck and drove home to Stars Hollow.
And hollow it was indeed.
-MILF: Man Inebriated, Lost and Forsaken-
Camp-girl, how Luke would come to refer to her after his recent encounter, shook Luke up enough to abandon the bottle and the bar for a few weeks. Luke patted himself on the back every time he thought of camp-girl and felt an immediate revulsion. It meant he was normal, he reminded himself that he wasn't a sick bastard, so maybe there was still hope for him. And sadly, Hope was indeed waiting for him, atop a stool at Curtis House.
Tall, voluptuous, red-headed, pale skinned with dark brown eyes, Hope could almost pass for Julianne Moore under the poor light of the bar. Luke, on his first night back to "check up" on Tommy, found himself cradling a glass of Jameson neat and sitting next to the breathtaking Hope, entranced by her laugh. Tommy introduced them and Luke found himself hoping against hope, that Hope would occupy that stool again.
He didn't know how he even got the words out that night, but before he knew it, he learned that Hope not only loved baseball, she had a daughter April's age, and she hated coffee. Luke wondered wistfully if he could hope against hope that Hope would be his... real hope. That night when Luke finally made it home, he stared at the ceiling of his apartment silently whispering her name and pretending that after each syllable left his mouth, that that other woman wasn't always at the back of his mind.
And so Luke found himself at Curtis House every night that week, and there she was, Hope sprung fresh from Pandora's box. He hoped that if he could maybe get to know Hope, he could forget the other her, the one woman who's name he couldn't even bring himself to say out loud. And Hope was amazing! She had so many similar likes and dislikes that Luke started to wonder if it was meant to be. After a week of being a steady barfly with Hope, he soon found himself tightly holding onto her hand as he pulled her towards the Motel 6 down the road. He put in the extra money for their "special" suite, which just meant it had a king sized bed. Luke was fully aroused and excited by the time he jiggled the key in the lock of the door. And as excited as he was, he promised himself that he'd do this right, that he'd do this lovingly and not with haste like the last time.
Luke led Hope to the bed and left her standing there as he stripped the comforter and the thermal blanket away. When Luke returned to her side, he removed the elastic from her hair and kissed his way down the column of her milky white skin. He placed his hands on her shoulders, slid the thin cotton jacket from her shoulders and slowly, painstakingly, unbuttoned her floral blouse, which also soon found its way to the floor. Luke slowly unzipped her skirt and let if fall to the floor as he looked into her eyes, noting the small smile that curved her lips. He took in the scrap of a thong she wore and barely resisted falling to his knees to place his mouth on the small triangle at the front.
Soon, Luke was on top of Hope on the bed in his boxers placing slow, wet kisses down her neck to her chest. He sucked an erect nipple into his mouth through the lace of her bra and smiled as a moan escaped her lips. Luke ran his hand down her abdomen and lightly ran it over the already dampening fabric cover the area between her legs. He started to lose his self control when he could not only feel her arousal, but also smell it. Hastily he pushed her panties aside and started to vigorously rub her clit, letting out a groan at how wet she was.
In response, Hope huskily whispered his name and it only fueled him farther, without a thought he shoved two fingers into her and bit a lace covered nipple, holding it between his teeth. Luke was stirred from his ministrations when he heard her urge him to fuck her. He didn't need to be told twice. He striped the thong from her body and quickly removed his boxers, before lifting her knees to his chest and entering her in one fluid motion. He was soon lost in his own repetitive movement and in the wet, tight heat of Hope.
"Luke, you're so big," Hope whispered in ecstasy, scraping her fingernails across his chest. "You're a big daddy," she continued. "Big daddy fucking this MILF."
Luke was a little slow on the uptake when the words came spilling out of her mouth. When he realized she had said 'daddy' and 'MILF' he started to slow. Racking his memory, waiting for more blood to reach his brain, he remembered that Lorelai had explained to him what a MILF was. He tried to forget Hope's whispered words, to concentrate on her arousal and being buried in her warm, wet sex.
He shifted her legs around his hips and leaned down on top of her, and as soon as Luke got back into his groove, Hope started to whisper into his ear. "Does it make you hot to think that my husband has no clue that you're fucking his MILF of a wife?"
Husband?! Luke asked himself, Wife?! "You're... you're married?" he asked as he slowed to a stop, feeling his arousal start to soften.
"Luke don't stop, please don't stop!" she whispered as she began to move her hips back and fourth and run her fingernails over his back.
Quickly he pulled out and moved to the edge of the bed. "You're cheating on your husband?" he asked, unable to look her in the eye. "You don't have a ring, I checked for a ring!" he voiced, more to himself.
"Wait," she said as she sat up. "You're not married?"
No reeling with disgust, Luke turned to face her, "What the hell gave you that idea?!"
"You have a daughter... I thought that a guy like you--"
"I feel like I'm losing my mind," Luke responded as he bent to gather his discarded clothing.
"You don't have to go!" She said quickly in response, groping for a sheet to cover up with. "This was going well, I mean, it was good for me..."
Clad in only boxers Luke turned to finally look her in the eye. "I'm sorry Hope, I just don't work that way... I was--I have to go."
That was the last thing he said to her before his finished getting dressed and blew out the door. "False hope," he muttered to himself as he started up his truck and headed back to Stars Hollow.
--The Ambulance Chaser--
Like a broken record, old Lukey from the Hollow swore off the bar once more. This time to avoid false-Hope, rather than the bottle. He still expertly fell face first into any bottle he could get his hands on, that is until the love of his life, his daughter, had come to stay with him. With April by his side, Luke finally felt some form of relief wash over him. It was the first time in months since he had been able to breath easy, been able to sleep without waking surprised that his life wasn't a nightmare. With April nearby, Luke was in his element, he was almost able to forget about his broken heart and the one who broke it. Luke was in dad-mode and loving every bit of it.
He should have known, after everything in his life, to not take anything for granted. After having loving amazing parents and losing them, after loving Rachel and having her run off, after loving Lorelai for ten years and having her go to the one man in the world that he hated... All of a sudden his bright eyed brainy kid was hurt, and Luke soon felt that panic that he'd only ever experienced the other side of. This kid, this amazing kid, his amazing kid that he had only known for less than a year, she was hurt and it was the most terrifying experience of his life.
There was really only room for so much hurt in that brain of his, all other thoughts temporarily forgotten, April was his main concern. And without thinking he dialed the number he had known by heart for almost ten years.
Then, there she was at the hospital. Luke thought wistfully that maybe they could get over the problems of the past, hoping that Lorelai being there for him was a sign that she still cared about him. His heart was still reeling from seeing his little girl sick in the hospital, it almost entirely overshadowed all the other hurts he'd experienced in his life. Then he saw the wedding ring on her hand and it was like the world came crashing down upon him once more.
He had wanted to marry that woman, he wanted to have kids with her. It was all gone now, it was all over. One gold band signified the horrible truth he hadn't been able to face. The Philadelphia Story played on the small hospital TV as his daughter slept, safe from the world, and all he could feel in that moment was sadness.
The real bomb had yet to drop. The real big bomb that destroyed Hiroshima, the one that ruined thousands of lives, that was spoken of in history books. That bomb came in the form of Anna Nardini, who was currently torn between being a mother and a daughter. Anna planned to move her kid, April, to New Mexico with her. And it was settled, like a loaded slap across his cheek, there was no discussion and Luke was expected to just accept it. But she's my kid too, he screamed in his head, she's my kid too!
He was back to the bar, back to the booze, back to seeking relief wherever he could find it. Almost finished with his third glass of whiskey, Luke grimly noted how his alcohol tolerance had vastly improved. He remembered a time at that country club, trying with all his might to go drink-for-drink with her father, only failing miserably and getting disgustingly wasted. He laughed to himself, he should see me now, I'd drink him under the table. And then the reality of the situation dawned upon him, and he downed his glass before signaling for another.
Glass four brought contemplation. We promised each other that no matter what happened, we'd always be friends. Like some damn kids at summer camp making a blood pact, promising that they'd always keep in touch. Promising that that summer was special, it was different, it'd always be remembered. I promised her that no matter what happened, that I would always be there for her and she for me. And she was, she was there, she didn't have to come, she didn't have to care. For crying out loud! I didn't let her get to know my kid, she hardly knew my kid, but she was still there. My kid, my kid! She's my kid too Anna! I can't loose my kid too... I won't fuck this up too... When is this shit gonna stop?
"Luke... Is that you?" He heard a woman ask, in a tentative voice from behind him. Tentative-voice grabbed a stool next to him and he immediately realized who it was.
"Uh... Nicole? Wow, hey," Luke said, his tone laden with shock.
She smiled at him. "Where's Lorelai?" she asked, a blatant triumphant tone in her voice, looking around almost comically.
Luke let out a cough and sucked in a breath, biting back the, fucking that asshole, comment before responding. "No clue."
"Oh..." Nicole whispered as she smiled at the barkeep and asked for a glass of wine, whatever white they had available. Luke inwardly mused that she'd be totally wasted off the one.
Well, what about sock man? "So, uh, what about your, uh, guy, the lawyer..." Luke asked cautiously, eyeing the slit in her skirt, wondering if he should even let his mind go there. Maybe it'd be fun, for one night?
Nicole let out a frustrated, you got me, laugh. "He's, um, in New York, they have him handling a big case there."
And I don't even fucking care, Luke thought. "Oh..."
"So do you come here often?" Nicole asked, looking straight at him, trying to search his face that was turned towards the wall.
Luke was consciously trying to avoid eye contact with her. "Yeah uh, I'm friends with Tommy so I, uh... come here to catch up."
"Ah," she replied with a small smile, seemingly taking interest in the wine glass she spun on the bar between her fingers.
Luke was angry with a lot of women, all the thoughts had been circling his brain since before Nicole occupied that stool. His anger towards Anna burned the brightest, and of course, he still had anger towards the other her who's name he still couldn't say. Residual feelings from camp-girl and false-Hope only fueled the flames of his burgeoning rage. He didn't think he still had unsettled aggravation towards Nicole, but maybe he was wrong. He felt an obvious frustration at their current forced conversation, at her enjoyment in his veiled responses. That amalgamated sensation was starting to settle between his legs, ready to go to half mast when prompted and he knew how his drunken mind wanted to deal with it that night. He was weak and he knew it, willing to give into those primal urges if it unburdened his tormented mind even a little.
So he tolerated Nicole's presence and sat next to her in companionable silence for a few more rounds, wondering what she was thinking. Trying not to think too hard about his real desire to fuck her, or to examine where that desire really came from.
"So I am assuming you're single now," she finally sputtered out. Nicole was visibly looser after her successive glasses of wine and so the words flowed more freely from her mouth.
Luke nodded, "It's over, and I don't want to talk about it."
Although there was obvious resentment in his voice, Nicole seemed to ignore it altogether. "I was dating Jerry after we got divorced, well, I still am, but we're engaged."
And during our marriage... to the sock man, Luke thought to himself as he gripped his glass a little tighter, giving no notice to the ring she flashed him. You deserve each other.
Nicole signaled to Tommy for another glass of wine. "Yeah, he's in New York, like I said earlier. Except I think he's seeing someone on the side, he keeps being so vague about everything, like you were."
Oh god, are you seriously surprised? he thought to himself. "Nicole I never--"
"I know, I know Luke! I mean, you weren't sleeping with her..."
"Nicole, god dammit! That was forever ago, can you please let it go?" he asked as he turned to face her. "And what the hell are we doing here anyway?" Luke finally broke, allowing the alcohol to unfurl his anger.
"Well I..." she stuttered in shock, turning slightly pink. "I thought when I saw you that we could, I mean, just once... I've been..."
"Okay," Luke said as he stood, swaying slightly, knowing that if he hesitated, his sober side would see reason and he'd miss the opportunity to scar himself further. He stared down at the bewildered look on Nicole's face, but soon she stood too and led the way out of the bar. Luke nodded to Tommy, settled his tab and jogged outside to go after her.
They found themselves at the motel down the street from the bar. Luke thought to himself that he finally had that particular barfly 'thing' figured out. He unlocked the door for Nicole and followed her into the room, the same room he had shared with false-Hope. He knew that if he waited even a second, he would start to feel awkward and his masochistic mood may dissipate. He tried not to think about how he reacted with the last woman in that room. He thought that if he could just quickly and roughly take her, that he'd at least feel something. Or, rather, something else. He didn't know if it was to feel better, or to forget, or to further harm himself; but the urge to do something was too strong.
Without waiting for her to turn around after her slightly wavering walk into the room, Luke approached her from behind and removed her suit jacket. He then spun her around and shocked her with a deep, angry open-mouthed kiss, while simultaneously unbuttoning her silk blouse. He felt Nicole hesitate for a moment, but soon she got with the program as she started to remove his shirt as well.
They made short work of their clothing and the bedspread soon found its way to the floor. Luke hovered above Nicole, nipping and licking at her neck, sinking his teeth into her delicate skin, harder than he ever had with any woman before. He didn't have the courage or confidence for foreplay, he feared that if he smelled the scent that wafted from between her legs, a scent he knew was borderline acidic and pungent, he'd instantly loose his erection. So, he deftly slid the condom on, lifted Nicole's legs so they were bent and up against his abdomen and soon recklessly thrust into her.
The sight of her small breasts, not as full or beautiful as her's, started to wreak havoc with his erection; so he roughly cupped his hands over them. He started to pound into her furiously, hoping to climax before he lost all sense of his manhood. He couldn't get the other her's face from his mind, comparing everything Nicole did to her. Nicole dug her fingernails into his back, as she used to do, and silently he cursed her for that, as he had always hated the pain he felt the next day, the reminder of what he had done and who he had been with.
Once they were done, he collapsed onto his side and tried to catch his breath. He felt like he was suffocating, the thought of never being with the other her again was almost too overwhelming. Nicole languidly stretched out and settled herself into the crook of his arm while stifling a yawn. She just fucking laid there, how can she be tired? he thought angrily, trying to brush all other thoughts aside. I wish I hadn't been able to see her face, I wish she hadn't been able to see mine. And then another realization dawned on him; I'm the sock man now... And Chri--...him.
Due to a combination of emotionally exhausting thoughts, drinking too many hard drinks straight up and vigorously humping Nicole, Luke quickly passed out with Nicole clinging to him desperately. He dreamt of the other her and her words, echoing over and over again, Luke, I slept with Christopher. Luke found himself wearing an expensive wool coat, a trendy scarf and tan leather driving gloves. He realized he was driving a Volvo sedan with Lorelai on his side. He tried to shout out and scream, I am not Christopher, I'm not him! No matter how hard he tried the words would not come out.
And he was hard, suddenly his pants were gone, his hirsute thighs contrasting sharply against the light leather interior, and Lorelai was leaning over from the passenger seat, sucking on his erection. Her head was bobbing up and down, she was moaning erotically and Luke had surrendered completely to the pleasure. Without thinking, Luke thrust up into her mouth. He felt a bite at the base of his penis and jolted awake. He looked down and Nicole had taken him entirely into her mouth, she must have accidentally bitten him when he surged upward. With a sly look in her eyes, Nicole let out a growl and continued to move her head up and down taking him deep into her mouth.
Lost in a rush of anger, confusion and disgust; he pulled back from Nicole and quickly positioned himself behind her. After pulling her up onto her hands and knees, he drove into her with one fluid motion, remembering how loose and wet Nicole always seemed to be. He squeezed her ass roughly and pulled her cheeks apart until he was sure it would hurt, but it only resulted in Nicole letting out louder moans of pleasure. Luke soon found his climax and collapsed again at her side. Nicole fell over with a laugh and an exhalation of breath.
"Luke?" she asked after a few minutes. "You were never like this before, it—that was amazing!"
On his back, Luke was rubbing his eyes trying to sort out his raging emotions. He responded in a rush of words, "I—we should, I should go."
Although Nicole did protest, promising that she'd be up for more in the morning, Luke gathered his clothes and left the motel room. By the time he pulled up behind the diner he couldn't summon the energy to leave his truck. He sat in the driver's seat clutching the steering wheel, and wondering what the hell he did to deserve this life. The other her, she was it. he knew that from the first day she walked into his diner. He knew it through Rachel, he knew it with Nicole. He knew it when she refused to see it; just as he knew it when they broke up the first time. He also knew that knowing something and admitting it was there, well, they were two entirely different things.
But finally, after four months of not being able to say her name, he shouted it at the top of his lungs, to no one in particular. He shouted it in frustration and anger, he laced it with his pain, his regret and loneliness.
All he wanted in his life was to have what his father had. A woman he loved deliriously, adored with abandon and maybe a few children to whom he would be completely devoted. He didn't need a high powered career, academic achievements or world peace. And now, all of a sudden, the woman of his dreams had betrayed him and he was out sticking his dick into anything that was warm and willing. If that wasn't enough, the mother of his kid was taking her away from him. That kid was the last thing in his life that he cherished, that held him together, that brought him happiness. He was sure his heart was broken into so many pieces it was irreparable. He was humpty dumpty and all the kings horses and all the kings men, would never be able to put his broken heart back together again.
And for all of it, after everything, he found his blame was placed not on Lorelai, but on himself for not trying hard enough to fix it. The irony of it didn't escape him. He was the one who fixed things, but when it came to the most important things in his life, he was the one who had broken everything. The bitter realization that he may have driven Lorelai into Christopher's bed was too much to bear. With his head against his steering wheel, he finally cried, whispering her name, until he fell into an exhausted sleep resting his head cradled in his arms against the wheel.
--And So it Goes—
Luke awake one warm summer morning, in that bed with the wooden frame and the fluffy white down comforter kicked to the end of the bed. It took him a few minutes to aquaint himself with the room, there was early morning sunlight streaming through the opened window, filtered through the sheer drawn curtains. The curtains were moving up and down from the light morning breeze and the entire room was lit up in a dusky orange hue. He had a sheet draped across himself from the waist down and when he turned he found Lorelai fast asleep next to him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The sheet stopped at the curve of her hip, the sunlight combined with her bare skin made her glow, and that expanse of sun kissed skin made his fingers itch to touch. Luke turned to his side and inched to her back, he stuck his nose in the spot where her neck met she shoulder and inhaled her sweet scent. His ran his calloused hand up her side, down to her hip and rested in its favorite place along the curve of her bottom.
Upon making contact with her skin, Luke immediately felt enveloped with love and completely at peace. He closed his eyes again, trying to will himself back to sleep, while taking in her intoxicating aroma. She shifted towards him.
He awoke with a start. He was in his truck, his arms where both asleep and his head was resting on them. He could see his breath when he exhaled, his jeans felt extremely tight at the moment and he tasted whiskey on his lips... whiskey and a woman. It was acidic and suddenly he remembered what had happened the night before. He glanced at his watch, saw that it was almost five AM and reached for the door handle. Like a zombie on his feet, he went up to his bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his face more vigorously than normal and collapsed onto his bed, his head finding the nearest pillow.
Right before he finally nodded off he caught a whiff of something extremely familiar, but it took him a moment to place it. He was resting on her old pillow, the one he couldn't bring himself to remove from his bed, or even to change the case on. He suddenly discovered the smell was still distinctly trapped within the pillow if he squeezed it tight enough. For a moment he allowed himself to become enveloped in it, like she was actually there and all was well. Upon the sudden realization that yes, those bad things did happen, he threw the pillow from his bed into the bathroom, denying himself any comfort in it and flipped to his other side, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears.
Alcohol was one way to get to sleep quickly, he mused that getting trashed at 5am when only just getting sober, was not a great idea. He fell back on another old standby, a quick rub under the sheets.
--The Other Blast from the Past--
Whenever Luke almost managed to forget what had happened with Nicole, she would leave a message on his machine about meeting up again. His disgust would return in full force and drive him to avoid Curtis House, so that he managed to stay fairly sober, both sexually and in terms of alcohol, for a few weeks.
Luke sat facing the TV watching a baseball game, barely paying attention to that or the beer in his hand, as he was lost in thought. The phone rang, and Luke silently hoped that April could be the one to brighten up his evening instead of Sam Adams.
"Hey," a woman voiced, and immediately Luke knew that another ghost of his past had just decided to resurface.
"Rachel?" he asked, truly finding no resentment in his tone.
"Yeah, I got delayed in Hartford for the night. Would you be interested in dinner?"
They met up in Hartford and grabbed a quick bite to eat. Rachel talked most of the time describing what she had been taking pictures of lately. She led Luke to her hotel and asked if he wanted to come up. He responded affirmatively and without another word, he followed her to her room.
Luke sat shoeless on the edge of the bed in the hotel room, wearing his nicer ensemble consisting of his leather jacket and dress shirt with no hat. Rachel stood before him, slowly unbuttoning her yellow blouse. After she let it slide off of her shoulders, she lifted her camisole over her head, unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slid them down her long legs. She stared down at Luke, looking straight into his eyes and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. Luke put his hands on her hips and buried his face in her abdomen, taking in her smell that was always so Rachel, like clean cotton and freshly laundered clothing.
Rachel slid the leather jacket from his shoulders and nudged him back slightly. She knelt before him, unbuttoned his dress shirt, slid it from his shoulders and pulled his undershirt up over his head. She then pushed him fully back on the mattress, unbuttoned his pants and pulled the rest of his clothing off in one swift motion.
Still in her underwear, Rachel climbed up by Luke's side and took him, half-erect, into her mouth. Luke let out a moan and quickly hardened. Rachel was always so good at that, and when Luke pushed at her shoulder so he could move over her, she pushed his hand back and continued until he came.
Rachel then moved to lay on her side next to him, a soft smile on her face, as she rubbed his arm. "Is everything okay, Luke?" she asked, sensing the air of sadness surrounding Luke throughout the entire night.
Luke stared up at the ceiling like he was trying to look right through it. He knew there was a heaviness sitting on his heart, he knew he hadn't felt so unhappy in years, but he had no idea how to articulate this peculiar brand of melancholy. Rachel, he realized, was one of his last good friends in this world. I've been a good person, Luke thought, what did I do to deserve this?
"I heard about the breakup," Rachel interjected, disturbing Luke's confused thoughts. At that Luke rose from the bed, feeling suddenly too naked and slipped his boxers and undershirt back on. Following suit, Rachel grabbed her pale yellow blouse and shrugged into it ignoring the buttons. Luke returned to the bed, sat, balanced his elbows on his knees and places his head in his hands.
"Luke," Rachel whispered, rubbing his back gently. "Things will get better. I mean, when I left, you moved on—"
"It's not the same Rachel," Luke responded, turning to face her. "I can't explain to you how different it is." At this Luke's voice cracked slightly and he squeezed his eyes shut tight to keep the burning tears from spilling over.
"Oh, Luke," Rachel whispered before gathering his head in her hands and kissing his forehead before placing his head against her chest. She felt him left out a soft sob into her chest; they sat there in companionable silence until he quieted.
"Carrie told me she was with her kid's dad?" Rachel asked, to the top of Luke's head. "Luke if you're, I mean, maybe you should just go get her back?"
Luke shook his head, still half-resting on her chest. "I can't…"
"I'm sure she—"
"No. She went to him, when we were…" At this Luke felt like he had reached the end of the rope, revealing further feelings and factoids about the end of his relationship was just going to sink him further into a place he didn't want Rachel to see. He's already shown too much of himself that night. He took in a huge breath of air, squeezed his eyes shut and started to caress Rachel's exposed abdomen. He then raised his head and started to teasingly bite her neck.
Rachel let out a small laugh and then pushed Luke's hand away. "I'm not sure we should be doing this Luke," she said as he continued to advance, teasingly brushing her hands away so he could touch her smooth skin.
All Luke could manage to say was, "Want." Soon Rachel stopped resisting, and once again, she removed Luke's shirt. This time Luke didn't wait; he stuck his hand down the front of her cotton panties and started to caress the area between her legs. Rachel let out a breath of air in surprise and quickly fell back on the bed as Luke continued his ministrations. His other hand moved up her abdomen and stopped when he held her small breast. Gently, he squeezed it as his mouth traveled down to her other nipple and sucked on it insistently.
Soon Luke's erection was peaking out of his boxers and his urgency was evident by the two fingers he had placed deep inside of her. Rachel removed her panties while Luke's fingers pushed deeper still. Then, she pushed Luke's boxers down as far as she could reach. She placed a quelling hand on Luke's wrist to slow his motions, as his actions were approaching a level of roughness that she was not accustomed to.
Luke removed his hand, moved his head up to look Rachel in the eye and then slowly slid into her welcoming warmth with his boxers still around his knees. He left out a huff of air and closed his eyes, relishing in the lustful pleasure that was coursing through his veins, and blocking out all other emotions. He balanced his forehead against Rachel's and started to slowly move in and out of her, concentrating on his movements and her warm breath on his face.
Soon, his pace quickened and he felt like his climax was just within his grasp. He intensified his motions, striving to reach his elusive goal, but failing as it remained just out of his reach. He had noticed Rachel's orgasm earlier, but she didn't protest as he continued on. After a time, Luke was soaked in sweat, his face was tight and red with frustration and his breathing was labored. Rachel ran her arms up his shoulders and whispered soothing words into his ear. "It's okay, Luke, you don't have to," she said.
"I haven't…" he huffed, noticing as he started to lose all feeling between his legs.
"You don't have to, it's okay," Rachel persisted, all the while rubbing his arms and back in a slow soothing rhythm.
Luke soon noticed his erection was half gone and fell to Rachel's side in embarrassment. He placed his arm over his eyes and grunted in frustration. "This has never happened to me before. I'm sorry…"
Rachel, still wearing that yellow blouse, rolled to her side to face Luke. "It's really okay. Luke. I mean, I still had a, you know, so, well it wasn't a complete waste," she said, trying to coax a whisper of a smile from him.
Luke rubbed a hand over his face before turning to get up from the bed, not able to look Rachel in the eye.
"She really did a number on you," Rachel commented towards Luke's back as he started to gather up his things. When he didn't respond she continued, "It'll get easier, Luke."
Clad in boxers and pants, and searching for his second sock, Luke kept his back to her. "I don't think it will, Rachel. She was the one and I blew it, we blew it. There aren't any others."
"You're just saying that—"
"No, I'm not," Luke responded tersely. "I've gotta go," he said as he moved to pull his socks onto his feet.
"Luke, don't go like this, please," Rachel said, failing to hide the emotion in her voice.
Finally, Luke turned to look her in the eye, realizing he hadn't even asked her how she was doing the entire night. He placed his hand on her knee and tried to smile. "I'm sorry Rachel. I didn't mean to make this entire night about me, things have just been so, well, fucked up." He let out a frustrated breath of air, "How have you been?"
Rachel fell back onto the bed in a fit of laughter, which finally made Luke smile. "Now that's the Luke I know," she said between giggles, still very much in the buff, with her arms behind her head, resting on a pillow. "Luke," she said sobering. "Stay the night, we don't have to, you know."
Still shirtless, Luke rested his head in his hands and sighed. He turned to face her again, "Well, as long as you let me make it up to you later then." He paused to intake a deep breath of air, "Rachel I'm not, I mean, this is all it can be."
"I know," she responded immediately. "Just for tonight."
--Crazy is Right--
After being with Rachel for an evening, Luke felt a bit lighter and maybe even a tiny bit happier. He had no intentions of getting seriously involved with her again, and didn't believe she did either. It was just nice to bury himself in a friend once more, emotionally and physically. It was good to be with someone who was once so familiar, and forget about the worries that had been haunting him for months. Rachel could read him like a book and he liked the fact that he didn't need to explain his actions to her.
Leaving Rachel's hotel room the next morning, he didn't feel any guilt at all. He couldn't help mentally comparing it to leaving Nicole's motel room. Leaving Nicole was far more humiliating and he was glad he had history with at least one woman that didn't make him shudder when he thought of her. He mused that he wished Rachel was his ex-wife and not Nicole.
And the lightness in his step carried over to the birth of his niece, the beautiful and aptly named Doula. Holding that little girl in his arms, Luke wondered what April was like at that age. He realized as that smiling baby was staring up at him, trying to grab his nose, that he would do anything in the world for April. He knew that any possibility of children in the future had slipped through his fingers, but that he wasn't going to let anything stop him from keeping what he still had. He was going to fight for April, even if it killed him.
Past precedent for men in his situation was extremely grim when it came to custody hearings and he hated lawyers, especially so after being married to one, but he sucked it up for his kid. Luke couldn't deny his own excitement, the fight was on. Luke gripped the steering wheel of his truck tightly on his drive home from his lawyers office that night. The rain had died down and the sky was clear, he could hear his tires hum on the pavement. He pulled up in front of the diner and went to grab something from the bed of his truck when he spotted a man standing across the street from him. It was Christopher. Luke didn't need to see the fighting look in Chris's eyes to know what the man really wanted from him, Luke tossed his coat down as Chris tossed his scarf into the street.
Christopher took the first swing, which Luke ducked and immediately retaliated by hitting him square in the nose. The man went down quick and Luke followed him, he grabbed him from the back and shoved him squarely into Santa's workshop, knocking it over like a house of cards. Chris bounced off what was left of the building and took Luke to the ground, but Luke was soon on top of him trying to get a good grip to land another punch. Chris pushed him off and they both struggled to get to their feet. Chris rushed at him next, they gripped each others arms until Chris pushed Luke off and lightly punched the side of his face. After rearing back, Luke came back with twice as much force and knocked Christopher off his feet again when his fist came in contact with Chris' jaw. When Christopher was back on his feet, worse for wear, he screamed and charged at Luke, pulling Luke and himself into the lit up Christmas tree. 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' started to play as the two men, worn and beaten, scrambled through the already ramshackle Christmas gifts that had been placed under the tree. When both men finally made it to their feet for the last time, they circled each other wearily before heading back to their original destinations.
Luke knew why he was fighting Christopher in the street, he could almost smell rotten pickles when he thought of the night he had seen Lorelai and Rory in his Volvo. He took some enjoyment in the fact that there was still some unsettled resentment from Christopher towards him. He wondered, hoped even, if Lorelai and Christopher were having trouble. Luke took some enjoyment in the fact that even though Christopher had her he still hadn't won, or so it seemed.
But the nights didn't stop being lonely, his apartment was still empty, and inevitably, Luke soon returned to the Curtis House and his familiar barstool across from his friend Tommy the bartender. Luke was careful to keep it in his pants for a while, not actively seeking out loose women at the bar. After a couple lonely drunken and frozen nights asleep in his truck, buried under a stolen wool U-Haul packing blanket, he finally gave into a woman that had been advancing on him for a while.
Her name was Candice and she was about Luke's age. She was a shorter woman, medium build with large voluptuous breasts that threw her frame off balance. Candice had been through a couple divorces and had a few kids scattered over the United States, with no family in the immediate area. Luke didn't really find her attractive or appealing, which he had made plain to her on several occasions after a few too many drinks. She was a harmless drunk though, and Luke never took any of her advances personally. One evening, she followed him out to his truck after he had offered her a ride home, feeling bad about putting this drunken woman into a cab with a stranger.
He didn't really know how it had happened or what words were spoken, even though he had felt especially sober that night, as if nothing he drank was affecting his system. But there was Candice, squatting in front of him, Luke's back to the driver's side door to his truck. His pants were around his ankles, his butt up against the freezing cold steel of his truck and Candice had his entire length in her mouth. The combination of the warmth of her mouth and the biting cold of the winter created an extremely interesting sensation. In addition, she had loosened her breasts from her blouse and bra and they were spilling over against Luke's thighs. He had to admit, if only to himself, the view wasn't half bad and she did do a fantastic job down there.
When all was said and done, after Candice had swallowed deeply all that he had spilled between her lips, she climbed into his truck for her ride home. Luke wondered guiltily if she had done that for the ride, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind. Candice and he never spoke of the incident, which made Luke a little more comfortable with the situation. He made a mental note to never allow that to happen again though.
A few days later Luke noticed Candice at her usual barfly stool and smiled awkwardly at her. She waved at him and walked over, a female friend trailing behind her. Luke almost spit his drink out when he realized who was with Candice.
"Why, Butch!" the woman shouted before stealthily moving to pinch his butt.
Luke quickly rose to his feet and removed his rear from her reach. "Cra—Carrie!" he sputtered.
"See Cand, I leave him speechless," Carrie said in mock whisper to her friend. Candice laughed and went back to her stool, winking at Luke.
What the fuck, Luke thought, what did she tell her?
Carrie sat down in the stool next to Luke. "So, Butch, going to buy me a drink or what?"
Grumbling, Luke sat and motioned for Tommy to get Carrie whatever she wanted. "Where is your husband, Carrie?"
"Oh forget about that Luke! Candy tells me you're quite the man," responded in a forcefully sultry voice.
Tommy handed Carrie her Long Island Iced Tea and she laughed. "So, are you trying to get me drunk and reenact our night under the bleachers?" Sitting back on her stool, Carrie spread her legs wide revealing a leopard print thong from under her short skirt. When she noticed Luke's eye wander between her legs, she placed a hand on her upper inner thigh.
Luke quickly averted his eyes to her face, not willing to admit to himself that he was starting to feel slightly aroused. "Carrie, I think you've got the wrong impression."
"Well, you're a free man, it'd be a shame not to take advantage of that… or me," Carrie said before she stuck her tongue out of her mouth and sucked on her straw. "Plus Candy told me about the blow job she gave you."
Luke, for the second time that night, almost spit his drink out. He managed to inhale it instead and started to turn beat red from the coughing. "It's okay, Butch," Carrie said, moving closer. "I wouldn't mind a little foreplay. Like I said, I heard you've got a lot to please a woman," she finished in mock whisper
Wow, Carrie sure has a way with words, he thought ruefully as he noticed Carrie's hand slide onto his thigh. Quickly Luke tried to reevaluate the logic of the situation, the mere thought of having a woman willing to do that to him turned him on in a sick way that his drunk brain had very little control over. He started to mentally recite the types of fish he'd caught in the Connecticut River, while trying to decide if doing anything with Carrie was something he could ever forgive himself for. When he pictured the disgusted look on Lorelai's face the day of the Fiddler on the Roof performance, Luke had his answer and an immediately diminished arousal.
Quickly, before his lust overtook his inebriated brain once more, he downed his drink, stood and backed away form her. "Listen Carrie, as much as any man probably wants to well, uh, with you, I mean. I'm gonna go. I'm sorry, maybe another time."
He slapped a couple twenty-dollar bills onto the bar, waved at Tommy and rushed out the door. He climbed into his truck as he saw Carrie step out of the bar, apparently looking for him. Without realizing what state he was in, he put his truck in gear and sped from the parking lot. As soon as he felt he had reached a safe distance from the bar, he pulled over onto the side of the road, cranked the heat and sprawled out onto the seat of his truck. His drunken thoughts immediately strayed to a similar leopard print thong he had once experienced on a different woman and the scent of her suddenly hung thick in the air. Luke freed himself from his jeans and stroked himself, imagining what it was like to be buried deep inside of her. He imagined her soft moans and the feel of her silky skin under his rough and calloused hands. He came quickly, tucked himself away, turned his truck off and fell asleep below the wool packing blanket for a few hours in a blissfully drunken state, hoping he wouldn't dream of Lorelai.
TBC with: Her Name Was Mimi
